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Файл:Jack Tier; or, the Florida Reefs
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JACK TIER; OR, THE FLORIDA REEFS
«Is not that Capt. Stephen Spike, of the brigantine Molly
Swash?» called out the little, dumpling-looking person, in
a cracked, dwarfi sh sort of a voice, that was admirably adapted to his appearance. Our captain fairly started; turned full
toward the speaker; regarded him intently for a moment; and
gulped the words he was about to utter, like one confounded.
As he gazed, however, at little dumpy, examining his bow-legs,
red broad cheeks, and coarse snub nose, he seemed to regain
his self-command, as if satisfi ed the dead had not really returned to life.
«Are you acquainted with the gentleman you have named?»
he asked, by way of answer. «You speak of him like one who
ought to know him».
«A body is apt to know a shipmate. Stephen Spike and
I sailed together twenty years since, and I hope to live to sail
with him again».
«You sail with Stephen Spike? when and where, may I ask,
and in what v’y’ge, pray?»
«The last time was twenty years since. Have you forgotten
little Jack Tier, Capt. Spike?»
Spike looked astonished, and well he might, for he had
supposed Jack to be dead fully fi fteen years. Time and hard service had greatly altered him, but the general resemblance in
fi gure, stature, and waddle, certainly remained. Notwithstanding, the Jack Tier that Spike remembered was quite a different
person from this Jack Tier. That Jack had worn his intensely
black hair clubbed and curled, whereas this Jack had cut his
locks into short bristles, which time had turned into an intense gray. That Jack was short and thick, but he was fl at and
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
square; whereas this Jack was just as short, a good deal thicker,
and as round as a dumpling. In one thing, however, the likeness still remained perfect. Both Jacks chewed tobacco, to a degree that became a distinct feature in their appearance.
Spike had many reasons for wishing Jack Tier were not resuscitated in this extraordinary manner, and some for being
glad to see him. The fellow had once been largely in his confi dence, and knew more than was quite safe for any one to remember but himself, while he might be of great use to him in
his future, operations. It is always convenient to have one at
your elbow who thoroughly understands you, and Spike would
have lowered a boat and sent it to the wharf to bring Jack off,
were it not for the gentleman who was so inquisitive about pilots. Under the circumstances, he determined to forego the advantages of Jack’s presence, reserving the right to hunt him
up on his return.
The reader will readily enough comprehend, that the Molly Swash was not absolutely standing still while the dialogue
related was going on, and the thoughts we have recorded were
passing through her master’s mind. On the contrary, she was
not only in motion, but that motion was gradually increasing, and by the time all was said that has been related, it had
become necessary for those who spoke to raise their voices to
an inconvenient pitch in order to be heard. This circumstance
alone would soon have put an end to the conversation, had
not Spike’s pausing to refl ect brought about the same result,
as mentioned.
In the mean time, Mulford had got the canvas spread.
Forward, the Swash showed all the cloth of a full-rigged brig,
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JACK TIER; OR, THE FLORIDA REEFS
even to royals and fl ying jib; while aft, her mast was the raking,
tall, naked pole of an American schooner. There was a taunt
topmast, too, to which a gaff-topsail was set, and the gear proved
that she could also show, at need, a staysail in this part of her,
if necessary. As the Gate was before them, however, the people
had set none but the plain, manageable canvas.
The Molly Swash kept close on a wind, luffi ng athwar
the broad reach she was in, until far enough to weather Blackwell’s, when she edged off to her course, and went through
the southern passage. Although the wind remained light, and
a little baffl ing, the brig was so easily impelled, and was so very
handy, that there was no diffi culty in keeping her perfectly in
command. The tide, too, was fast increasing in strength and
volocity, and the movement from this cause alone was getting to be suffi ciently rapid.
As for the passengers, of whom we have lost sight in order to get the brig under way, they were now on deck again.
At fi rst, they had all gone below, under the care of Josh, a somewhat rough groom of the chambers, to take possession of their
apartment, a suffi ciently neat, and exceedingly comfortable
cabin, supplied with everything that could be wanted at sea,
and, what was more, lined on two of its sides with state-rooms.
It is true, all these apartments were small, and the state-rooms
were very low, but no fault could be found with their neatness
and general arrangements, when it was recollected that one
was on board a vessel.
«Here ebbery t’ing heart can wish», said Josh, exultingly,
who, being an old-school black, did not disdain to use some of
the old-school dialect of his caste. «Yes, ladies, ebbery t’ing.
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
Let Cap’n Spike alone for dat! He won’erful at accommodation!
Not a bed-bug aft – know better dan come here; jest like de
people, in dat respects, and keep deir place forrard. You nebber see a pig come on de quarter-deck, nudder».
«You must maintain excellent discipline, Josh», cried
Rose, in one of the sweetest voices in the world, which was
easily attuned to merriment – «and we are delighted to learn
what you tell us. How do you manage to keep up these distinctions, and make such creatures know their places so well?»
«Nuttin easier, if you begin right, miss. As for de pig, I teach
dem wid scaldin’ water. Wheneber I sees a pig come aft, I gets
a little water from de copper, and just scald him wid it. You
can’t t’ink, miss, how dat mend his manners, and make him
squeel fuss, and t’ink arter. In dat fashion I soon get de ole
ones in good trainin’, and den I has no more trouble with dem
as comes fresh aboard; for de ole hog tell de young one, and
‘em won’erful cunnin’, and know how to take care of ‘emself».
Rose Budd’s sweet eyes were full of fun and expectation,
and she could no more repress her laugh than youth and spirits can always be discreet.
«Yes, with the pigs», she cried, «that might do very well;
but how is it with those – other creatures?»
«Rosy, dear», interrupted the aunt, «I wish you would
say no more about such shocking things. It’s enough for us
that Capt. Spike has ordered them all to stay forward among
the men, which is always done on board well disciplined vessels. I’ve heard your uncle say, a hundred times, that the quarter-deck was sacred, and that might be enough to keep such
animals off it».
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JACK TIER; OR, THE FLORIDA REEFS
It was barely necessary to look at Mrs. Budd in the face to get
a very accurate general notion of her character. She was one of
those inane, uncultivated beings who seem to be protected
by a benevolent Providence in their pilgrimage on earth, for
they do not seem to possess the power to protect themselves.
Her very countenance expressed imbecility and mental dependence, credulity and a love of gossip. Notwithstanding these
radical weaknesses, the good woman had some of the better
instincts of her sex, and was never guilty of anything that
could properly convey reproach.
She was no monitress for Rose, however, the niece much
oftener infl uencing the aunt, than the aunt infl uencing
the niece. The latter had been fortunate in having had an excellent instructress, who, though incapable of teaching her
much in the way of accomplishments, had imparted a great
deal that was respectable and useful. Rose had character,
and strong character, too, as the course of our narrative will
show; but her worthy aunt was a pure picture of as much
mental imbecility as at all comported with the privileges of
self-government.
The conversation about «those other creatures» was effectually checked by Mrs. Budd’s horror of the «animals», and
Josh was called on deck so shortly after as to prevent its being renewed. The females staid below a few minutes, to take
possession, and then they re-appeared on deck, to gaze at
the horrors of the Hell Gate passage. Rose was all eyes, wonder and admiration of everything she saw. This was actually
the fi rst time she had ever been on the water, in any sort of
craft, though born and brought up in sight of one of the most
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
thronged havens in the world. But there must be a beginning to everything, and this was Rose Budd’s beginning on
the water. It is true the brigantine was a very beautiful, as well
as an exceedingly swift vessel; but all this was lost on Rose,
who would have admired a horse-jockey bound to the West
Indies, in this the incipient state of her nautical knowledge.
Perhaps the exquisite neatness that Mulford maintained
about everything that came under his care, and that included
everything on deck, or above-board, and about which neatness Spike occasionally muttered an oath, as so much senseless trouble, contributed somewhat to Rose’s pleasure; but her
admiration would scarcely have been less with anything that
had sails, and seemed to move through the water with a power
approaching that of volition.
It was very different with Mrs. Budd, She, good woman,
had actually made one voyage with her late husband, and
she fancied that she knew all about a vessel. It was her delight to talk on nautical subjects, and never did she really feel
her great superiority over her niece, so very unequivocally, as
when the subject of the ocean was introduced, about which
she did know something, and touching which Rose was profoundly ignorant, or as ignorant as a girl of lively imagination
could remain with the information gleaned from others.
«I am not surprised you are astonished at the sight of
the vessel, Rosy», observed the self-complacent aunt at one of
her niece’s exclamations of admiration. «A vessel is a very wonderful thing, and we are told what extr’orny beings they are
that ‘go down to the sea in ships.’ But you are to know this is
not a ship at all, but only a half-jigger rigged, which is altogether a different thing».
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JACK TIER; OR, THE FLORIDA REEFS
«Was my uncle’s vessel, The Rose In Bloom, then, very different from the Swash?»
«Very different indeed, child! Why, The Rose In Bloom was
a full-jiggered ship, and had twelve masts – and this is only
a half-jiggered brig, and has but two masts. See, you may count
them – one – two!»
Harry Mulford was coiling away a top-gallant-brace, directly in front of Mrs. Budd and Rose, and, at hearing this account of the wonderful equipment of The Rose In Bloom, he
suddenly looked up, with a lurking expression about his eye
that the niece very well comprehended, while he exclaimed,
without much refl ection, under the impulse of surprise –
«Twelve masts! Did I understand you to say, ma’am, that Capt.
Budd’s ship had twelve masts?»
«Yes, sir, twelve! and I can tell you all their names,
for I learnt them by heart – it appearing to me proper that
a ship-master’s wife should know the names of all the masts in
her husband’s vessel. Do you wish to hear their names,
Mr. Mulford?»
Harry Mulford would have enjoyed this conversation to
the top of his bent, had it not been for Rose. She well knew
her aunt’s general weakness of intellect, and especially its
weakness on this particular subject, but she would suffer no
one to manifest contempt for either, if in her power to prevent it. It is seldom one so young, so mirthful, so ingenuous
and innocent in the expression of her countenance, assumed
so signifi cant and rebuking a frown as did pretty Rose Budd
when she heard the mate’s involuntary exclamation about
the «twelve masts». Harry, who was not easily checked by his
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JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
equals, or any of his own sex, submitted to that rebuking
frown with the meekness of a child, and stammered out, in
answer to the well-meaning, but weak-minded widow’s question – «If you please, Mrs. Budd – just as you please, ma’am –
only twelve is a good many masts –» Rose frowned again –
«that is – more than I’m used to seeing – that’s all».
«I dare say, Mr. Mulford – for you sail in only a half-jigger;
but Capt. Budd always sailed in a full-jigger – and his fulljiggered ship had just twelve masts, and, to prove it to you,
I’ll give you the names – fi rst then, there were the fore, main,
and mizen masts –»
«Yes – yes – ma’am», stammered Harry, who wished
the twelve masts and The Rose In Bloom at the bottom of
the ocean, since her owner’s niece still continued to look coldly displeased – «that’s right, I can swear!»
«Very true, sir, and you’ll fi nd I am right as to all the rest.
Then, there were the fore, main, and mizen top-masts – they
make six, if I can count, Mr. Mulford?»
«Ah!» exclaimed the mate, laughing, in spite of Rose’s
frowns, as the manner in which the old sea-dog had quizzed
his wife became apparent to him. «I see how it is – you are
quite right, ma’am – I dare say The Rose In Bloom had all
these masts, and some to spare».
«Yes, sir – I knew you would be satisfi ed. The fore, main
and mizen top-gallant-masts make nine – and the fore, main
and mizen royals make just twelve. Oh, I’m never wrong in
anything about a vessel, especially if she is a full-jiggered ship».
Mulford had some diffi culty in restraining his smiles each
time the full-jigger was mentioned, but Rose’s expression of
38
JACK TIER; OR, THE FLORIDA REEFS
countenance kept him in excellent order – and she, innocent
creature, saw nothing ridiculous in the term, though the twelve
masts had given her a little alarm. Delighted that the old lady
had got through her enumeration of the spars with so much
success, Rose cried, in the exuberance of her spirits – «Well,
aunty, for my part, I fi nd a half-jigger vessel, so very, very beautiful, that I do not know how I should behave were I to go on
board a full-jigger».
Mulford turned abruptly away, the circumstance of Rose’s
making herself ridiculous giving him sudden pain, though he
could have laughed at her aunt by the hour.
«Ah, my dear, that is on account of your youth and inexperience – but you will learn better in time. I was just so,
myself, when I was of your age, and thought the fore-rafters
were as handsome as the squared-jiggers, but soon after I married Capt. Budd I felt the necessity of knowing more than I did
about ships, and I got him to teach me. He did n’t like the business, at fi rst, and pretended I would never learn; but, at last, it
came all at once like, and then he used to be delighted to hear
me ‘talk ship,’ as he called it. I’ve known him laugh, with his
cronies, as if ready to die, at my expertness in sea-terms, for
half an hour together – and then he would swear – that was
the worst fault your uncle had, Rosy – he would swear, sometimes, in a way that frightened me, I do declare!»
«But he never swore at you, aunty?»
«I can’t say that he did exactly do that, but he would swear
all round me, even if he did n’t actually touch me, when things
went wrong – but it would have done your heart good to hear
him laugh! he had a most excellent heart, just like your own,
39
JAMES FENIMORE COOPER
Rosy dear; but, for that matter, all the Budds have excellent
hearts, and one of the commonest ways your uncle had of
showing it was to laugh, particularly when we were together
and talking. Oh, he used to delight in hearing me converse,
especially about vessels, and never failed to get me at it when
he had company. I see his good-natured, excellent-hearted
countenance at this moment, with the tears running down
his fat, manly cheeks, as he shook his very sides with laughter.
I may live a hundred years, Rosy, before I meet again with your
uncle’s equal».
This was a subject that invariably silenced Rose. She remembered her uncle, herself, and remembered his affectionate manner of laughing at her aunt, and she always wished
the latter to get through her eulogiums on her married happiness, as soon as possible, whenever the subject was introduced.
All this time the Molly Swash kept in motion. Spike never
took a pilot when he could avoid it, and his mind was too much
occupied with his duty, in that critical navigation, to share at
all in the conversation of his passengers, though he did endeavour to make himself agreeable to Rose, by an occasional
remark, when a favourable opportunity offered.
As soon as he had worked his brig over into the south or
weather passage of Blackwell’s, however, there remained little
for him to do, until she had drifted through it, a distance of
a mile or more; and this gave him leisure to do the honours. He pointed out the castellated edifi ce on Blackwell’s as
the new penitentiary, and the hamlet of villas, on the other
shore, as Ravenswood, though there is neither wood nor ravens to authorize the name. But the «Sunswick», which satis-
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